The Lieutenants Absence
by Dezarae
Summary: This idea just sort of popped into my head, I hope you like it. Hanley is a spy as well as Lieutenant he handles the planning and paperwork, and then goes undercover and infiltrates German bases while his men are out. They don’t have any idea, yet.
1. Chapter 1

**This idea just sort of popped into my head, I hope you like it. Hanley is a spy as well as Lieutenant; he handles the planning and paperwork, and then goes undercover and infiltrates German bases while his men are out. They don't have any idea, yet.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Combat! or any of its characters, sadly.**

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**Well, he may as well entertain himself and play with their minds a little as long as he was being held prisoner. 

"NO parlez," he said in a perfect French accent.

This surprised the German officer, but then he threw his head back and laughed. Not quite the effect he had been going for. He spoke in his thick German accent, but surprisingly it came out in English. He must have studied it somewhere, thought Gil. "I like you, you have guts American. But I asked you a question, are you or are you not; the spy who has blew up the base in Ruidoso last month? Or are you just a common filthy spy who was looking to spot us for his command?"

"No, I don't know what you're talking about." Gil said looking as innocent as he could.

This time the man did not find it funny, he raised his hand and backhanded the lieutenant as hard as he could. Gil felt blood pouring from his busted lip, but still he said nothing.

"Listen Lieutenant," he sneered, "We know all about you, and your covert operations for the united states. You're kind are specially trained for this kind of thing. And now you are here. We know it was you who blew up the base in Ruidoso last month. We are willing to make a deal if you tell us all you know, and what you are doing here!"

"I haven't got the faintest idea of what you're talking about; I was just out for a little stroll, enjoying the countryside when your men grabbed me. Why am I here again?"

He slapped Hanley again and again, "Do you still maintain that statement?" the German officer asked.

He didn't give an answer. "Very well then." He barked out an order to one of the sentries posted outside. Two more guards entered, one of them was holding a whip, he noted with a sense of foreboding.

The two guards hauled him up and held him, with his back turned to the German Lieutenant. The first lash snaked across his back, and he bit his lip in surprise, he hadn't quite been prepared for it.

"That is a sample American. Stop me any time you wish to talk…no? Well how about we start with fifty lashes then, hmm?"

The whip sunk into his flesh again and again. His muscles tightened, but he did not cry out. He remained silent, trying to focus his mind on something else. His sergeant, Saunders, filled his mind. They had only just recently come to terms with the fact that they were more than sergeant and lieutenant, they were best friends; brothers. Though both of them had somehow known from the start, very deep down, that there was something special between the two of them, the kind of friend you only came across once in a life time. The rest of his men had picked up on it long before they did, and Hanley wouldn't trade his platoon for any other. They were the best friends he had.

**Fifteen…sixteen….seventeen….**

He hoped he would survive this and get back to his men, long before they were back from their mission. He was always back before them. But this time, he was thinking maybe the meter had already run out, and they were back. Were they worried about him? Did the captain tell them where he was?

**Thirty-four…..thirty-five….thirty-six…**

He remembered the argument he and Saunders had had right before they left. Saunders and his men had just gotten back and he was sending them right back out without so much as time for a hot meal or a good night's sleep. Saunders had begged him to see if he could delay even one night, and he had said it was impossible. Saunders had scowled at him and left without a word.

**Forty-seven….forty-eight….forty-nine….fifty….**

The German lieutenant seemed to have miscounted and gave him two more lashes. After that he was thrown into a dark cell.

"You Hanley?" asked a voice in his ear.

"I'm Hanley," he agreed. "How are you doing General Tavish?"

"I'm fine, but you don't look too good son. And I hate to say this, but they sent _you _to get me out? That's great and all, but who's gonna get you out?"

"You don't worry about me, sir. I've got a plan. If it all goes well, we'll be out of here by midnight."

"Midnight? … MIDNIGHT!" he bellowed. "You're cutting it a bit close, don't you think lieutenant?"

"Don't worry sir; we'll be out of here long before the shelling starts."

"We had better be, or I'm going to kick your butt in the afterlife!" the general snapped.

"Yes sir!" he said trying to salute.

"At ease, man, at ease. I think its okay this once if you don't salute. I've heard about you Hanley, and I must say you aren't what I expected."

"Well sir, I try never to expect anything, just in case I'm disappointed. But don't force my hand, general. I've got it all worked out. Just one thing…."

"What's that?" the general asked quietly.

"If," he took a deep breath, "If I'm not with you when the time comes, or I get held back, keep going. I'll be right behind you."

"Ahh….you know, that's why you aren't very popular around here?" the General said with a smirk on his face.

"Why's that sir?" Hanley questioned innocently.

"You keep blowing up their damn headquarters! Do they know its you who's the undercover agent?"

"They do here anyway, but not for long. We have to ensure that it stays here."

The general sighed, "So you're going to blow it up?"

"Well, there's really no need, seeing as its going to be shelled at midnight. But I've already set a few extra explosives. Just in case." Hanley said, looking a bit sheepish.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'd at least like to get a prisoner first." The general said testily.

"Yes sir, I know the perfect person. Now General, its about four o clock, we have a few hours, why don't you get some sleep. If they come for me, don't worry about it, I'll be back in time."

"You seem very casual about this, Lieutenant." The general commented dryly.

"It's all planned sir, don't worry about a thing." he said reassuringly.

"I am worried about you, and we just met. That is feat that no one else has managed to claim. Those lashes plus the bruises don't look so good to me."

"I'll be fine till we get back to camp." he said calmly.

"Like hell, you're probably in more pain than a horse giving birth."

"I'm not sure I appreciate that analogy." Hanley said. He looked at his watch. "Get some sleep, we'll need our rest sir." With that he pulled his helmet down over his eyes.

The general snorted, this was the beginning of an interesting friendship, and it would go far.


	2. Chapter 2

**­­Disclaimer: I do not own "Combat!"**

**Enjoy!**

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Sergeant Chip Saunders sighed. Boy did it feel good to come home, or whatever place they were staying in for the time being.­ He looked around for the lieutenant, it was odd that he wasn't here to greet them, he was always there to greet them. He supposed Hanley was still upset with him about their little argument, but still Hanley wouldn't take it out on the rest of the men…would he?

He frowned, going to find the makeshift office where Hanley would surely be. But he wasn't there, instead to his utter surprise he found Lt. Garner, who informed him that he was temporarily in command of this outfit till Hanley could return. He demanded where the Lieutenant was, and Garner shrugged, telling him that the lieutenant had been sent out on a solo mission, and that the order had not been relayed to him, but had come from Captain Miller himself.

Saunders frowned, and went out to talk to his men.

"Hey Sarge!" called Kirby. "Where's the Lieutenant?"

"Yeah, he almost always comes out to greet us when he hears we're back." Caje agreed, his voice concerned, as he spoke the words that Saunders had thought mere minutes ago.

"Sarge," Little John said, "If he's going to send us back out…"

Saunders threw his hands up to stop the questions. "NO, nothing like that…"

"Well?" asked Doc.

"He's not here, and hasn't been for about 34 hour's now." he said, his slight nervousness sounding like a siren in his gentle timbre.

"What do you mean he's not here?" Caje asked incredulously. "Then who's sitting in HQ making plans to send us back out in five minutes?"

"Lt. Garner is our acting CO; he has no idea where Hanley is. Said the call came in from the captain and he took off. And he also says, we're to move out to a little town called Tousal, Lieutenants orders. A week R and R. Apparently, he managed to secure that for us before he was called out." the sergeant said tiredly.

"Called out where?" Kirby asked curiously.

"I don't know, but Garner hinted that he should be back by now…" Saunders said quietly.

"Well, I'm sure he's fine," Brockmeyer insisted. "The lieutenant knows how to take care of himself."

And he did, that part at least, was true.


	3. Chapter 3

­­ **­­Disclaimer: I do not own "Combat!"**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The lieutenant had called it; they did come back for him. And they looked angry too. He didn't think much of it, he just allowed himself to be led back to the room where the deranged German lieutenant was waiting for him.

"Are you ready to talk, Spy?" venom leaked from his tone.

"What was the question again?" Hanley asked innocently.

He was rewarded with a slap to his face.

"Now was that really necessary?" he continued, biding his time.

One of the other German's glared at him and spoke rapidly in his native language to the German officer. He responded, also in German, sparing momentary glances at Hanley. He turned back to the lieutenant, "It seems you have gained a reprieve for the moment, Lieutenant. I will return for you shortly."

They took him back to the dank little cell. The general was waiting for him impatiently.

"Are you alright? What'd they do to you son?" he asked, looking the lieutenant over.

"Oh nothing, just a little violent round of twenty questions. What time is it now General?" he asked unconcernedly.

"11 o'clock." He said dryly.

"Alright! Time to put our plan into action." He stood up and produced strange looking miniature piece of dynamite. He pulled a match from the little compartment in his belt and lit the wick, after placing the stick in the crevice of the door.

He turned back and pulled the general away from the door, covering his head. As soon as the door was blown open he pulled the general out. "Okay general, keep going the exit is straight ahead. I'll meet you out there by the old oak tree; I have a prisoner to get."

"I don't think so, kid. I'm not going to let you go by yourself! You look like a little wind and a feather could knock you over. And you are limping, I can tell. So we go together or we forget about the prisoner."

The lieutenant considered him for a minute before saying: "Alright lets go." And they crept down the hallway to where the German officer was pouring over his maps. He was frustrated and called out to the guard. But the guard didn't answer, because Hanley had taken him out, and the general had taken the other one out. Hanley swung from the door frame straight into the German officer knocking him unconscious. He started to drag the man out of the room, but the general stopped him, pointing to the maps. Hanley nodded grabbing the maps and then they both dragged him out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Yay! A new chapter! Sorry it took me so long, I've just had some hectic times and things to deal with. But here's the next chapter for you all! Hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own combat! either...**

Their unwilling prisoner awoke about a third of the way back to Tousal. It was not the most pleasant of awakenings, as awakenings go. Discovering that you have been kidnapped and are being held at gunpoint would put a damper on any situation, even for the most optimistic of people. Let's just say that the German officer was not listed among the optimists. None the less, the German lieutenant began to plan his escape and how best to get rid of is captors.

The lieutenant, his growing exhaustion aside, was determined to continue; he ignored the general's concerned looks, and soldiered on, his weapon always at the ready.

The German made his move minutes later, at the first opportune moment. He proceeded to grab the general and hold him hostage with his own knife. Hanley was tired and at a loss for what to do. On one hand, he could _not_ let the kraut kill the General. On the other, he could _not_ let the kraut escape with the intelligence Hanley knew he had. The General's well being won out in the end, and despite the general's agitated protests, he threw down his gun. But his mind was alert, looking for a way to get them out of this situation, multiple scenarios running through his head at once.

The pain his battered body was now experiencing was almost unbearable. It clouded his mind and he struggled to push it away. He had very little time to decide what to do, and he focused on that as he handed over his weapons. It was very ironic, in his mind, that the tables were now turned. They crept along the river, using it as cover on their way back to German lines. And suddenly, he had a plan. He took immediate action and dove at his enemy, surprising them both. They went sprawling into the river, and Hanley managed to come out on top and drag them both ashore.

By the time they reached Tousal, Hanley was on the verge of collapse, with the general not far from it either. The Lt. was shivering, sopping wet, his shredded shirt stained red (because he had reopened the wounds on his back). He was quite possible beginning to feel the early symptoms of pneumonia, he could feel a few ribs were broken, and he knew he had a cold. Except for the fact that his body was pumping adrenaline like crazy, he would likely be comatose.

The general was not much better himself, though he was not wet, he was exhausted and battered, not to mention damn hungry.

Upon entering the city, the happy go lucky French scattered at the sight of the unconscious German. They walked down the main street, stares of their R & R-ing soldiers following them as they went.

It was Caje who saw the Lt first, he grinned in relief and nudged Little John, who nudged Kirby, who said to Saunders "Look Sarge! It's the lieutenant!"

Saunders turned to look where they indicated and released a breath he did not know he had been holding. A slight frown creased his chiseled features, as he looked at his friend. He was trudging, albeit not in a very straight line, with a German and another man in tow. Realization struck him; the man with the Lt was a General! He and his men pushed through the crowd to their leader.

They tried to approach him; captain miller stepped out and told them that they couldn't speak to him until the men had been debriefed. Saunders knew better than to protest, it would do no good. So they waited for two whole hours while Hanley was debriefed. They were eating hot chow in the makeshift mess, when they saw Captain Miller and Lt. Garner entering into the line.

"Where's the Lieutenant?" demanded Saunders, after saluting.

The two exchanged looks, "He's outside with the General," was Millers reply.

At that, the entire platoon exited the mess, led by Saunders himself. They spotted him walking slowly, leaning heavily on the General (who didn't seem to mind). It looked as though a small gust of wind would knock them both over. Doc grabbed his bag and ran over to them.

"Lieutenant!" Kirby said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. The lieutenant eyed them wearily,

"Hello," he said, looking down.

"I think I can be of some service?" Doc asked.

"No, I am going to relieve my replacement and…"

"No!" the General was putting his foot down, literally. "No, you made a promise to me, before the debriefing, and you will damn well stick to it."

"But…"

"Saunders spoke for the first time, "You might as well give the stubborn act up Lt. Hanley. It never does work for me, and besides, the sooner you get better, the sooner you can go back to sending us out every five minutes." There was a light tease in his voice, that to an outsider would have seemed cold or like an accusation, but to the members present, it was almost endearingly said, from Sarge to his best friend.

The lieutenant smiled slightly and took a step away from the general, towards his friends, his men, who were loyal to each other to a fault, and then he swayed, crumpling to a ground. It would have caused a great deal more agony than it did, if the general and Saunders had not both reached out and caught him before he hit the ground. It was certainly no easy task, as he was a dead weight.


	5. Chapter 5

**Alright! Finally a new chapter! So here it goes, if there are any mistakes you have my fullest and most meaningful apologies. I will fix anything if you tell me too.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Combat! But I do think its like the most amazing historically based show ever...**

It was then that they actually took in Hanley's full appearance.

There were multiple bruises and cuts' covering his face and arms, his shirt was in shreds, he was caked with dirt, mud and blood. He was also wet and shivering. Saunders felt something sticky beneath his fingers, and he shifted so he could pull his arm out form under his friend, and blinked in surprise, his mouth forming an "Oh" as he saw the red covering his jacket sleeve. Doc helped them turn him over and their breaths collectively caught. Caje swallowed, hard; Kirby bit his lip, little John winced, there were audible gasps from the others, and Saunders sighed quietly. His back was also in shreds, and from the looks of it, the wounds were infected.

Doc whistled, "Boy did they give him a working over, I can do some of the small stuff for him, but he needs a surgeon,"

Sergeant Saunders and Caje volunteered to drive Hanley to the field hospital. The general insisted upon going, so Saunders sat in the back with the lieutenant, steadying him, so he wouldn't hurt himself. He found it somewhat concerning, and he could see from Caje's expression every time he looked in the rear view mirror that he did too, that the lieutenant had not so much as stirred since they left. Hanley remained oblivious to the world, which was a sad thing, because at the moment, there was no fighting, it was just a warm sunny day.

When they reached the field hospital the lieutenant was whisked away from them, the doctors sighing at his condition. This left the general, Saunders, and Caje little to do while they waited. They weren't going to leave until they knew he was okay, the general had agreed to let them stay. They were sitting in a sleep tent, drinking coffee, when Caje asked, "General, if I might ask, what did happen? How did he get like this?"

The general looked at them, contemplating, and then sighed. "I can't tell you too much, a lot of it is classified,"

"Well then, what CAN you tell us?" Saunders demanded, looking slightly peeved at the secrecy act.

"Well, I can tell you that the lieutenant, no matter how much any believes otherwise, always knows what he's doing and has a back up plan or two. He let himself get captured, so he could find me, which was his secondary objective."

"That doesn't explain his condition," said Caje softly.

"Well, what is there to say? The Kraut Lt beat him for information, several times, and he managed to be a smart ass the whole time. He rescued me at great personal risk to his own life. And then he jumped into the river…"

"He what?" Saunders asked in surprise.

"He jumped into the river, to catch our Kraut prisoner turned temporary hostage holder, unawares. Again this was done at great personal risk to himself."

"I see," he said, his fist clenching.

Caje just nodded mutely, his face angrier and yet stonier than the sergeant had ever seen him.

They were approached by a surgeon, still wearing his scrubs. "Lt Hanley's men?" he asked.

They nodded, standing to receive the news. They were somewhat disturbed by the blood on his scrubs. "Well, he's stable for now, he hasn't woken up yet, though. And that worries us the most."

"Can you comprise a list of his injuries?"

"Well, he has three broken ribs, one punctured his lung. He has developed a mild case of pneumonia. The lashes on his back were somewhat infected, we had to cut out part of his skin, so that it wouldn't just rot away. He has multiple bruises and cuts, the one on his hip may never heal completely; we're worried that it might cause him some trouble. He might have trouble seeing for a while, he has a beauty of a black eye. We removed some shrapnel from his left leg, and there are some minor burns on both legs. What worries us the most though, is that he is still comatose; I'd say he has a case of exhaustion, which is not helped by his injuries, if he wakes up we can reassess the situation and give you a better idea of what's going on. But I'd give him 24 hours or less to wake up, or he's done for. I don't know if I should tell you this, but he died on our table, two times, he's one hell of a fighter, but if he doesn't wake up, there isn't much we can do." The doctor said bluntly.

Caje and Saunders stared at him, eyes wide at the long list of injuries.


End file.
